


Bells

by reginaldthegreat



Category: On My Block (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Lost Love, Love, Minor Violence, Past Relationship(s), Short, Short One Shot, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28089153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reginaldthegreat/pseuds/reginaldthegreat
Summary: You live a different life now, one without Oscar. Maybe it’s better... safer... but you still find yourself clinging to a dream.
Relationships: Oscar "Spooky" Diaz/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Bells

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I made any mistakes I should change!

You struggled with the plates of noodles, heavy on your arms. You were working this awful fast food job for minimum wage while you were still in school to pay for rent. You hated it. Everyone here was so dumb... two dimensional... 

They mocked your dreams and looked down on you as if you were a naive child instead of an adult. You couldn’t wait to be done with this place. One day, you’d finally make it into law school. It was inevitable. Your passion was unstoppable. 

Well... almost unstoppable. 

Today, at 2:03 PM, when the sun was blaring outside on this sticky, hot, summer day, a man covered in tattoos pushed his way into the restaurant. Upon seeing his face, you slipped into the backroom, begging your manager not to reveal your presence. 

You heard him ask your manager about you. About where you were.

“She’s not in today,” your manager said.

“Hmm, okay...“ the gravely voice said, then changed following the click of a handgun, his voice now loud as he shouted, “What about now?” 

You had always dreamed of being taken seriously by your coworkers, but this wasn’t the way you wanted it to go. 

“Everyone out, hands behind your head, get on the ground,” he ordered. 

You sighed and stepped out, hands at your sides. You weren’t going to call the police. Even if the police arrived, you’d still have a price on your head. This gang was relentless and powerful and even more organized than the law. That’s why you wanted to become a lawyer. It would offer you some kind of protection. 

You glanced at your coworkers on the ground, at their shivering, terrified forms, and looked away. They would be fine. 

“Hi,” you said to the man. He was once a friend of Oscar’s and once, he had been a friend of yours too. That was before he joined a rival gang. Aka, not Oscar’s. 

“Hola chica, eres demasiado bueno para nosotros ahora, ¿eh?” he asked, the gun still raised. You knew he wasn’t going to shoot you. Not him, at least. But he needed something to scare your coworkers into staying silent and still. 

“No, I’m not too good for you guys,” you disagreed, and you were telling the truth. “I never have been and I never will be.” 

His eyes softened. “Oh, but you are. We always knew you’d get out. Live a different life.”

You smiled back, a sad smile, and nodded. “So why are you here?” 

“You know the boss wants you dead.”

“I do. So are you going to shoot me?” you asked. You were unarmed, easily able to be taken down. All he had to do was pull the trigger, and men like him seldom waited around to converse with their victim like a villain in a Marvel movie. 

“I was hoping you’d give me an alternate plan,” he admitted. 

You were confused. You had been friends once, but the loyalty was so far gone it didn’t make sense for him to spare you now.

“Why?” you asked.

“You’re Spooky’s girl,” he answered simply. 

Your blank stare made him sigh, and he shook his head before explaining reluctantly. “Spooky saved my daughter’s life. He cleaned some money to pay for her medical bills. It was some mad shit... brain cancer. I don’t know why he did it, I just wanna pay back the debt and get the weight of it off my ass and you... you’re Spooky’s girl. Una vida para una vida.”

You blinked. It had been years since you’d seen Oscar... years since you held him in your arms. You tried not to think about him. The way he smelled like tobacco and gunpowder and... barbecue. He was a culinary genius. You tried not to think of the rare smile that graced his lips and the way his laugh made him look younger, a different version of himself. You hoped he still cooked delicious meals for himself and his brother. You hoped he was happier. He never wanted to be the leader of the Santos. No one ever did. It was just what one had to do to survive. 

“Have you seen him... Oscar?” 

The man blinked, then nodded. “My boss would definitely fill my head with bullets if he knew but... yeah... I’ve seen him. “

“And?”

“He misses you.” 

You felt your heart sink into your stomach. “Oh.” 

“Remember when you won that award in school? The one that ended up in the paper? He keeps the article in his pocket.” 

Your heart sank even lower than you thought possible, and you clenched your fights tightly at your sides. “Thank you for telling me.” 

He nodded, sympathetic, but with a muted, growing impatience. 

“You can shoot me,” you decided at last. “In the leg or arm. Your boss will think you were interrupted by the police and won’t accuse you of disloyalty.” 

He seemed to be pleased with that plan. “What about them? I don’t mind shooting them,” he suggested, gesturing his head to the wide eyed employees on the floor beside him, listening to the encounter with slack jaws and sweaty foreheads. 

“I trust them not to tell the police I was involved,” you said, “And they’ll wait until after you’re long gone to call the police. After all, if they do expose me or you, their lives will be on the line too.” They probably wouldn’t be, but you did need a way for them to stay quiet. He knew this, and this made the corner of his mouth tilt into a faint smirk. 

With that, your old friend shifted the gun from the line of shaking staff members in black caps and aprons, to your left leg. 

You held your breath, your mind tracing back to Oscar, to his lips on yours and his stupid, beautiful laugh before the sound of an earth-shattering gunshot muddled the memory and replaced it with white light behind your eyelids.

You couldn’t picture his face as you crumpled to the ground, thoughts swirling incoherently as the gang member’s shoes squeaked on the recently mopped tiles. You watched the blood seep and you scowled. Someone would have to mop the tiles again. 

Your coworkers were speaking on top of each other but you couldn’t hear. Your ears were still ringing. You managed to single out the “ding” of the bell on the door as your old friend fled... somehow. 

“We’ll have a restaurant together someday,” Oscar said once, on a summer day just like this one. “One with big windows that let all the light in.” 

“Can we serve elote and poblanos?” you asked, eyes wide with contagious excitement. 

He laughed, a chorus of bells better than all the beautiful sounds in the world. “Of course, florecita. Everything you dream of and more.”


End file.
